


Shattered Image

by MaxBetta



Category: Actor RPF, Rory McCann RPF, Scottish Actor RPF
Genre: Comic Con, F/M, LFCC, London Film & Comic Con, Rory Mccann x reader, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 22:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15592266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxBetta/pseuds/MaxBetta
Summary: You meet Rory McCann at comic con, but the disappointing interaction takes you by surprise. If only you could think of a way for him to make it up to you.





	Shattered Image

There was one reason, and one reason only, that you were going to this year’s London Film & Comic Con...to Meet Rory McCann. It had taken an insane amount of planning, and a considerable amount of credit card debt, but you had done it. You flew to London, checked in at the hotel, and made your way over to the main building where every one of your dreams was about to come true. Not only were you going to meet him and get his autograph, but you were going to have a picture taken with him as well. Would he put his hand on you?  Would you put your hand on him? There was so much to think about, your mind was a flurry of one anxious thought after another.

 

You had bought your autograph ticket in advance the moment you saw the announcement about Rory’s appearance, and it just so happened that you had gotten the first one!  First in line to get the autograph of the man you’d been crushing on for years. You showed up to the line early just in case, and stood at the empty table, waiting patiently. It was about a minute before your scheduled autograph time when a woman in a staff T-shirt came out from behind the curtain. She smiled, then turned around as if she were speaking to someone who still hadn’t entered. You couldn’t make out much, but it was clear who was speaking. As he came closer to the curtain, his words were more easily understood.

 

“Christ, I’ll be glad when this is over. These people are all mad. Their whole lives revolve around TV and film stars. It's pathetic. I’m so sick of it.”

 

It was Rory. He came walking through the split curtains and sat roughly in an uncomfortable looking chair. He was disheveled looking in general, his hair a mess, and he was covered in sweat. He looked, and sounded, miserable. The woman took the seat next to his and after checking her watch, she waved you over and you took your place across the table from him. He hadn’t said anything to you yet, but the overall vibe wasn’t good. The tension could have been cut with a knife.

 

“Name.” He spat it out as if it were a swear word. So far, this was nothing like you had imagined. He was upset, and the unexpected attitude from him made you freeze. He grew impatient and huffed. “Are you daft? Name!”

 

At that moment, all of your emotions came forward, no matter how much you tried to keep them at bay. Feeling the beginnings of tears forming in your eyes, you decided you had to get out of there as quickly as possible.

 

“I...I have to go.”  You turned and began walking as fast as your feet could carry you to the nearest exit. You were shaking by now, wiping at the hot tears that had begun to fall down your cheeks. There was a shuffling sound behind you, followed by heavy footsteps that seemed to be coming closer. In an instant, he was in front of you, blocking your way.

 

“Hey. Why are you so upset?”

 

He was standing there, looking down at you, waiting for an answer. You had spent your whole life pushing emotions down, wearing a fake smile just to please everyone around you while your insides were in turmoil. No. Not this time. You were going to let it out, to let someone know, for the first time in perhaps your entire life, EXACTLY why you were so upset.

 

“I’m upset because this is nothing like it was supposed to be. YOU are nothing like you were supposed to be! I traveled thousands of miles to be here just to meet you. Do you know how long it takes to save up money for a trip like this when you only make $10 an hour? Of course not, because you don’t think of anyone but yourself!  I wanted to meet the charming, goofy guy that I’ve seen in interviews and con panels...but you’re different. You’re nothing like that. Not really.”

 

He was aghast. “I think you’re taking this all a bit too personally.”

 

“Am I?” You stood on your tippy toes to get as much in his face as possible. “Fuck you Rory McCann! Fuck you and your big dumb stupid face!” You tried making a run for the exit once more, but a large hand gripped your arm gently from behind. You spun around to face him once again. ”Hands off you...you...sheepfucker!”

 

He let go of you then.

 

You looked around to survey the crowd, who were staring in a stunned silence. If it had been a movie, they would have cheered and you would have been the hero. Instead, everyone just stared, motionless. You could hear papers shuffling in the background, and then suddenly, the building came to life again. It was as if nothing had ever happened. You wished that were the case.

 

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. You took a cab back to your hotel, and spent hours in your room sobbing and calling the front desk to ask for more tissues. At one point, you noticed that your stomach was growling louder than you were crying. You didn’t have much of an appetite considering the events of the day, but maybe a bit of food from the hotel bar would ease the grumbling in your stomach, and perhaps a good amount of alcohol would numb some of the pain of disappointment you were feeling.

 

You sat at the hotel bar for just over an hour, drowning your sorrows in a bowl of beef stew and several pints of Guinness. When you tried to hand the bartender your credit card to pay the bill, he refused.

 

“Your tab has been taken care of by the gentleman over there.” He pointed a finger to the area of the bar behind you.

 

You swiveled around on the stool, your eyes burning when they finally settled on him. Rory McCann, sitting at a table by himself. He waved you over, but you wanted none of it. Your vision of him was tainted, and it would never be the same. Thinking about what had happened earlier in the day, you were simultaneously fuming and nauseated.

 

You shot up from your stool and, once again, attempted to make a hasty exit. You managed to get all the way back to the lobby elevator before you saw him coming toward you. In an attempt to get away faster, you went through the door that led to the stairwell. You only had to go up three floors, after all. You huffed your way up the stairs, cursing at the reminder of how terribly out of shape you are. Once you made it to the third floor, you flew into the hallway. Your thighs were burning with fatigue, but it paled in comparison to the anger that was burning in your chest. You were standing at the door to your room, trying to get the damned key card to work, when he caught up with you.

 

“Will you stop for a moment? Christ woman, I can’t apologize if you keep running all the time.” He was out of breath and hunched over with his hands on his knees.

 

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

 

“That’s fine, I’ll do the talking.” He straightened up. “I was an asshole earlier and I’m very sorry. I was jet lagged and I hadn’t eaten, but that’s no excuse.”

 

You leaned up against the wall with your back, taking it all in. Judging by his eyes, he seemed sincere. He took a step closer and put one hand on your shoulder, rubbing gently in a circular motion.

 

“I feel badly. Can I make it up to you somehow? Would you like me to autograph something? I hate selfies, but I’ll take one with you if that’s what you want.”

 

And just like that, there he was. The sweet, charming gentleman that you had always hoped he would be. He was inches from you, looking down at you with those big puppy eyes of his, and you were a goner. It was then that you became more aware of the hand that was still on your shoulder, how warm and soft it felt. Boldness overtook you, and without a second thought, you stood on your tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. Not a quick kiss, either. A long, lingering, exploratory kiss. And the best part was, he returned it. Slowly, he pressed his body up against yours, pinning you to the wall. He slipped his free hand behind your lower back and pulled you closer. Despite being a first kiss, it was heated and passionate. Something was happening between the two of you, something real. After a few minutes, he pulled back to catch his breath.

 

“Fuck me, how did you learn to kiss like that?”

 

You blushed, not quite knowing what to say to that. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming. His hands on you, his eyes on you, and his lips...you wanted them on you again.

 

“You know what you said earlier, about wanting to make it up to me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Would you like to come in?” You nodded toward your hotel room door. _Please say yes. Please say yes._

 

He bit his bottom lip and nodded. You turned quickly and swiped your card into the reader, and just as the little light turned green and the door unlocked, Rory picked you up and carried you inside, setting you down gently as the door swung shut and locked itself. And once again, your mouths were crashing into one another.


End file.
